Friday, May 24, 2013

Public-recovery movement key to addressing alcohol and drug addiction

AnnMarie McCullough started
drinking heavily when she was 14, but it wasn’t until she was about 26
that alcohol really began to take over her life. The Toronto native had
moved to Vancouver to be a DJ in 1994, right around the time that the
rave scene was thriving. Add marijuana, ecstasy, and cocaine to the mix,
and McCullough wasn’t just into hard-core partying; she was a full-on
addict.

“From 1997 until 2008, alcohol and cocaine were the big focus of my
life,” McCullough says in a phone interview. “With the late nights in
the DJ world, you’re just surrounded by it. I wanted to quit that
lifestyle, but it got to the point where it was no longer up to me. I
spent 23 years in addiction.”

Now 42, McCullough has been sober for almost five years. Not only has
her recovery led to a new career—she’s the director of communications
and community relations at the Orchard Recovery Centre, a drug-treatment
centre on Bowen Island—it’s also spawned a nationwide movement.
McCullough helped found Recovery Day Canada, an event that originated in
the U.S. but now takes place in 10 cities across Canada, including
Vancouver and Victoria, this year on September 8.

To help convey the gist of Recovery Day to Vancouverites, this weekend Orchard is presenting a screening of The Anonymous People—a
documentary about the 23 million Americans living in long-term recovery
and the emerging, grassroots public-recovery movement—as part of its
REEL Recovery Film Festival series for 2013. The way McCullough sees
things, the film and the movement have the power to transform how
alcohol and drug addiction are addressed within, and perceived by,
society.

“We were inspired to try and put something together for Vancouver
because with this being a city where addiction is such a huge problem,
it just made sense to show the other side and focus on the solution.
There are people living in recovery and who are doing well.

“The vision we have is to eradicate the stigma and build awareness
around recovery and celebrate recovery,” she says. “We want people not
to feel shame about getting help. The Orchard really believes in the
recovery-advocacy movement in Canada, and we want to continue to work
toward more and more people being comfortable sharing about their
recovery.”

She’s quick to note that the Orchard recovery programs are based on
the 12-step model, which emphasizes anonymity. Although confidentiality
is still assured and respected for anyone who takes part in such a
program, the public-recovery movement is being mobilized by those who
are comfortable coming forward in the hope that their story will inspire
others to get support.

People struggling with alcohol addiction might feel especially
ashamed because it’s so misunderstood, McCullough says. When she was
addicted to booze, she still managed to keep her day job in an office
and shared a home with her husband.

“I hadn’t lost all the things on the outside,” she says. “The
destruction for me was emotional. I woke up one morning and realized
that who I thought I was and who I really was were not congruent. It was
a really defining moment. You don’t have to be homeless or drinking out
of a paper bag or living under a bridge, but when you hear the term
alcoholic, that’s still what the general population thinks of. But you
can also seek help before it gets to that point.”

“Depending on the route of administration, the effect may be immediate,” Fay tells the Georgia Straight.
“The problem is they also impair brain functioning, eventually
producing less dopamine and less functioning receptors, leading to
depression and feeling lifeless. Then more drugs are needed just to feel
normal.”

Brain impairment resulting from the use of crack cocaine and crystal meth is especially profound, Fay says.

“Dependency on these drugs is difficult to treat,” he says. “Dopamine
transporters are significantly reduced, and the frontal lobe becomes
affected, making planning and decision-making difficult.
“Drug abuse is a health problem rather than a moral failing,” he
adds. “For most addicts, it is a primary brain disease, and drugs of
abuse change the way the brain functions. The word addict is derived from addictus, meaning slave.”

Genetic factors account for about 50 percent of a person’s
vulnerability to addiction, Fay says. Environmental factors, such as a
chaotic home or peer influences, play a role too. Then there is the drug
itself: its availability, effect, route of administration, and early
use.
“The faster a substance reaches the brain, the more addictive it
becomes,” Fay says. “Smoking or injecting a drug offers a faster route
to the brain [than drinking]."

Successful treatment of addiction usually involves detox or
residential care as well as relapse prevention, Fay says. Four factors
are commonly present to prevent relapse, and at least two are required:
external supervision, ritual dependency on a competing behaviour, new
love relationships, and deepened spirituality.

“Competing behaviour means the addiction needs to be replaced by something of equal value,” he notes.
McCullough says that wanting to become sober was a huge part of her own recovery.

“It was my decision to go into treatment,” she explains. “I was not
coerced by a family member. It made a huge difference. If you have a
desire to get sober, you will do well.

“Willingness is a key ingredient,” she adds. “I came in with a desire
and willingness…and because of that, I haven’t struggled. I’ve been
through a divorce and I’ve lost friends and I’ve lost pets, things that
are hard to deal with. But that’s what sobriety has given me: the
ability to live life on life’s terms and not have to anesthetize myself
in any way to pull through life’s challenges. I stick with people who
are sober and do the work that’s necessary to stay sober. I’m happy in
my own skin. I have an excellent life today.”

The
Orchard Recovery Centre presents The Anonymous People at SFU Woodward's
Goldcorp Centre for the Arts on Friday (May 24).

Monday, May 20, 2013

On May 24th, at the Goldcorp Centre for the Arts in Vancouver (SFU, Woodward's), Orchard
Recovery Center is proud to present a one night sneak preview event of 'The
Anonymous People'-a film about the millions of people living in long-term
recovery, and the emerging public recovery movement that will transform how
alcohol and other drug problems are dealt with in our communities. Film
maker Greg Williams showed the trailer and answered audience questions at
the RRFF gala last October. It was the trailer that inspired us to initiate
Recovery Day which has now grown to 10 cities across Canada!

The film is now complete so come and be part of this very special event
which includes a Q&A with Greg Williams and special guests after the film.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Drew Snider is an old friend from Radio Daze. This was his fulsome response to the CNN documentary.

And we continue to cry out, "But the Emperor has no clothes!"

As
I think you know, I've been a leader (not officially anymore, but I
still do the promotion and fundraising) for The Lord's Rain, a facility
that provides showers on the DTES. It's become a whole lot more than
that in the five years it's been open, and a total of 9 years in the
area still has me convinced that InSite is a rank failure.

Thought you'd be interested in this excerpt from a newsletter I
send to supporters of The Lord's Rain. I have a few more musings after
that (so you don't cut away too soon).

Dear Friends of The Lord's Rain,

It's hard to believe it's almost quarter-past 2013 -- and harder
still to believe it's spring, with snow penning in my mother-in-law in
Toronto and the weather here (at least, this past Wednesday,
as I started to write this) reminding one of the Two Ronnies gag:
"today's weather will be hot in Stott, cool in Goule, choking in Woking
... and those living in Lissing Down are advised to carry an umbrella."
And for those coming into The Lord's Rain, the hot showers and coffee are a relief and a blessing.

It
was similarly awful weather a couple of weeks ago, when I accompanied
Frank to OnSite. OnSite is the cousin of InSite, the "safe"
drug-injection facility on the Downtown East Side, where nurses keep
vigil over people as they shoot up their drug(s) of choice. If someone
feels they finally want to take a crack (pun intended) at kicking the
habit, they can go across the foyer to OnSite, to see if they have any
beds available. Frank has been trying to beat his addiction for years,
so this was his latest attempt. I offered to walk there with him and
give him moral support. It was 8:30 when we talked and OnSite didn't open until 10, so I told Frank I'd meet him at The Lord'sRain at
quarter-to and we'd walk up together. I did want to support Frank, but I
was also interested in seeing what's inside the place. As many of you
already know, I'm skeptical of the "harm-reduction" approach, so even a
cursory look would be instructive.

It was a good sign when Frank came back to The Lord's Rain at 9:30
-- he was serious. We walked up and stood in line: other addicts,
waiting to get their hit. A couple of them started banging on the window
around 9:58 (the slight peevishness shown when the coffee isn't quite ready at The Lord's Rain is
positively virtuous patience by comparison) and when the door finally
opened, they all surged through and were directed to a door leading to
the injection rooms. When Frank said he wanted to go to OnSite, he was
sent to another counter. Two people ahead of him were told to "come back
tomorrow," which was not a good sign; Frank went up and was told the
same. I hazarded a question. "What treatment method do you use here?"
"Oh, a number of things," was the reply, "like acupuncture, meditation,
whatever the client thinks will work." "Does anyone help them make that
decision?" "Oh, yes: we have counsellors here."

I
didn't ask anything more, because I was afraid they might think I was
spying and that might have affected Frank's situation, so I just nodded
and Frank and I left. We agreed to meet there the next day, just before
10.

Frank
was there before I was and this time I stayed outside while he went in.
There was a curtain over the window looking into the OnSite reception
area, but I found an opening and peered through. It gave me a good view
of the front desk and I saw Frank wait in line, then step up. A few
words were exchanged, and then he turned away and went to a different
part of the building and through a door. Had he gotten lucky? I waited
another 10 minutes as the rain intensified. A guy standing
next to the door was calling out, "jib-jib-jib!" -- "jib" is the street
term for crystal meth, and I couldn't tell whether he was selling or
looking to buy. Finally, when Frank didn't come out, I squelched away,
figuring he had gotten in.

That was Thursday. The following Tuesday, Frank was back at The Lord's Rain.
"What happened?" I asked. "They said, 'come back tomorrow'." "Did you?"
"No." He didn't explain where he went when he went through that other
door. I haven't seen Frank since. It strikes me that that particular
facility is built on the premise that drug addicts have freedom of
choice: that they can choose to come off the stuff, and when they do,
there's a facility to help them. Moreover, that facility gives them a
choice as to how to be treated. But doesn't being an addict, by
definition, mean that they've surrendered freedom of choice?

One
of the Lord's Rain supporters, a dear friend who also does outreach
work on the DTES, replied, saying she "couldn't disagree more" about
harm reduction and told of the terrible decisions OnSite workers have to
make every day, trying to determine who is less likely to die if they
don't let him or her in.

Of
course, it's a terrible decision, when you're called on to play God,
but the thing she didn't address was the fact that, in the case of
Frank, they only told him to come back tomorrow -- did not attempt to
refer him someplace else. How does that speak to the level of caring
they have for the addicts? Are they so convinced that their method is
the only method that matters that they won't give a person a chance
someplace else?

Nearly
a year ago, my wife was co-chair of the BC portion of the
Governor-General's Leadership Study Tour -- a cross-country expedition
by people identified as potential future leaders (not Junior Achievement
types, but adults of various ages, backgrounds and skill sets, with
experience in government, labour, business and social work) to study
various issues and how they're being handled. Amelia arranged for the
tour to include The Lord's Rain, partly because she wanted the
participants to meet the DTES people she knows -- the ones for whom she
would cook on Saturday nights at Gospel Mission (we stepped away from that role in September).

The
participants came on a Tuesday morning when the showers facility was in
full swing, and they were blown away by the kindness and openness the
people at the Mission showed towards them. They got to talk to "actual
street people"; one of the tour members, from a reserve in Saskatchewan,
met people she knew and who had more or less disappeared.

Worth
noting is that the tour members visited InSite the day before. They
were not allowed to talk to the "clients" -- only the staff. Go figure.

Endorsement

"All treatment centres in B.C. should get involved and support the Drug Prevention Network. As one collective voice we need to send the message that treatment works and it saves lives. There are recovery houses, treatment centers, private, government funded, long term, short term, detox, therapeutic communities etc. Let's help support prevention and help educate the public."